Siblings

A few years ago I read an article in Newsweek discussing the longlasting effects of siblings. The article pointed out the fact that one’s brothers or sisters actually may have a more pronounced effect on a person’s life than one’s parents. After all, typically siblings survive parents and continue to be a part of one’s life for decades after that . . . Sobering, but true.

The timing and placement of the article came at an appropriate time. I read it in the bathroom (sorry for that happy detail) of my sister’s Portland, OR condo when Pearly-Q and I were visiting. I remember discussing it with her, as it was something I hadn’t considered much before. I don’t see why not. I suppose it points out my own shortcomings in falling into a trap of adolescence and young adulthood where a person often views their friends as being more noteworthy than their siblings. Just as so many wiser adults once predicted, those friendships eventually faded into a pleasant wallpapered backdrop, while the relationships with my mother and siblings took center stage.

I’ve thought a lot about this recently in observing the relationships my children are developing with each other, particularly since Baby Coco’s birth. The boys have always embodied playful bear cubs together. Then when Sassy was introduced to the mix, she added an element of dramatic femininity that makes their dynamic hilarious. (I crack up every time I hear her command her older brothers to step in line.) The truth is, the three of them all came within a 2½ year period, and as a result, play famously together to the point that I’m almost envious of their fun. I rarely have to schedule a playdate, and hearing them refer to each other as “best friend” or “buddy” warms my heart beyond anything I can express.

As Coco entered the picture I wondered how the older three would respond to her. Fortunately, after a few initial bumps in the road, I can honestly say they can’t get enough of her. I’m constantly having to clear air space for her, as they would smother her with affection if given the chance. I often hear one of them say, “I love her so much, Mom, I just can’t stand it!” Last week Bitty remarked, “Mom, I love her so much, I just can’t stop looking at her. She’s just so cute.”

I cherish these moments. I can’t imagine how hollow my ears will feel one day when I no longer hear their constant chatter of giggles and laughter or even disagreements in my back seat, or how much I’ll long to overhear their latest role play or invention in the works.

The other day the boys made “surprises” for each other by “wrapping up” neglected toys in sketching paper, and presenting them anew. I marveled at how excited each of them was about the chance to give the other something. It made me think about how grateful I was that of all the gifts I could provide them with, I had given them one of the greatest—brothers and sisters. I can’t help but desire that they will continue to find surprise and delight in rediscovering their relationships with each other again and again. Because--God willing-- they will have to take care of each other long after I’m gone, and hopefully that's a joyful thing.

Big-O lovingly watches out for his little sister:

The good ol' pirate & princess game:

Bring on the sharks:

There's nothing like Daddy's shoes:

Big brother extraordinaire:

As soon as she started to hold the baby, the Sass declared, "Mom, I think you should take our picture."